


On the Other Side

by SkiaWolf



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Falling In Love, Forbidden Love, Heavy Angst, Inspired by Music, M/M, Prisoner of War, Tragedy, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 16:03:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10494486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkiaWolf/pseuds/SkiaWolf
Summary: Two boys in a cruel world communicate through the fence parting them with letters folded into paper aeroplanes.Their growing loves brings false hope which both grasp at in desperation, but there's no stopping the inevitable darkness awaiting them both.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a oneshot based off two Vocaloid songs, 'Prisoner' by Kagamine Len (Sorey's part) and 'Paper Plane' (Mikleo's part). I wrote it almost three weeks ago, I just never had the chance to upload it!
> 
> It's got very little dialogue, which was strange territory for me to cross, but I hope I managed fine and that you like it!

A life filled with the freedom he could only experience in his dreams.

That's all the teenage boy had ever wanted; a life outside of this prison, on the other side of the fence where a whole different world lay. Far in the distance, green grass blew in the wind and flowers bloomed in the spring. Only weeds bloomed near the fence in front of him. Even the sunshine seemed to reach that world more than his.

Sixteen years ago, he had been given the name 'Sorey'. But it had been a long time since that name had been uttered instead of a series of numbers.

Being a naturally optimistic person only got you so far. Deep down, he knew that there was no space for him in the world beyond the fence. His place was here; no more than a beaten, over-worked prisoner. After time, the smile which had always beamed brightly began to fade, his old personality disappearing.

But one day, it began to return.

He was sitting outside on the dirty ground when he had spotted a figure on the other side of the fence. Walking aimlessly, they seemed almost like an angel. Their hair, tinted silver and uniquely ending with blue, blew as gently as the weeds near his feet. The rest of him was just as pale as that hair; their skin, the white baggy top tucked into pale blue jeans... The brightest part about them was a turquoise cardigan thrown on top, somehow making this ethereal figure seem human.

It was too much of a risk to call after this person. For a moment, they had glanced through the fence; in that moment, Sorey saw that he was a boy. Then he had walked away.

Sorey's heart sank, longing for contact with this person. He decided to sit out here the next day to see if they reappeared. His usual longings were replaced by this simple hope of the boy returning.

And he _did_ return. Stood on the other side of the fence, not too close, but closer than previously. Sorey went through with a plan which had crossed his mind the previous night. He grabbed a letter off the floor and was watched by the boy on the other side as he folded it into a paper aeroplane. Taking quick steps forward, he pulled his arm back and threw it over the fence, a grin forming on his face when it landed on the other side by the boy's feet.

He picked it up and began to read the letter, holding it softly in his hands as though a grip any harder would destroy the paper. Then, looking more radiant than the sun which Sorey always missed, the boy looked up, brushing his fringe out of his hair to give him a beautiful smile. Violet eyes shone as they locked on Sorey's.

As though by fate, the boy then reached into his pocket to pull out a piece of paper himself. He mimicked Sorey's actions, jumping on his toes slightly in order for it to be carried by the wind. Sorey leaped up to catch it in both hands, unfolding it carefully.

_'It's nice to meet you. Can we speak again?'_

Sorey nodded at the boy, who seemed joyful at the response. He waved before walking away. Sorey's heart sank a little bit at how brief their meeting was, but the boy lived in the other world. He likely had a busy life to lead elsewhere.

It didn't matter anyway. The boy continued to visit every single day – sometimes with just a single piece of paper to say hello, other times they stood out there for a little longer, extending their conversation through their written words.

Sorey didn't know how the other boy sounded, nor did he know his name. It was too risky for him, a prisoner of the soldiers who put him and many others through Hell, to even give the boy his name. It could put them both at risk. Speaking out to each other was the same, the danger of them being overheard too great.

But one day, the boy had let out a laugh at one of the letters. It was like music to Sorey's ears, more angelic than anything he had ever heard. He joined in the quiet laughter too, and it seemed as though that to the other boy, Sorey's own laughter was beautiful, too. The boy had smiled tenderly, pink dusting his cheeks.

It was after that moment that Sorey realised that the bond that was growing with this boy was becoming more than just friendship. Even with no name to that flawless face, even with not knowing how the boy sounded when he spoke, the realisation that Sorey was falling in love hit him straight in his chest.

He had always appreciated the letters, reading over them each night to bring back the hope which was easily lost. Now he held them to his chest, his heart warm. Whilst those letters brought him the most happiness he'd had in years, they brought him pain, too. He had an even higher longing to be free, an overwhelming desire to simply be able to hear the boy's name, to feel the skin of his hand under gentle fingertips.

And it was this which turned the lack of hope into a promise which Sorey knew could never be gone through with; that this desire would happen, despite the fact that it was impossible for him to ever leave his side of the fence.

The boy transformed the harsh truth of reality into lies of fantasy Sorey wanted to latch on to with every ounce of his being, despite how the boy was not trying to do so.

He simply spoke to him through those letters, not asking the impossible. Perhaps he knew that their worlds were too far apart, the difference between them a gap neither could cross. The boy could never know the agony that Sorey went through every day, the lack of freedom from being trapped away from the world.

Months had passed, the love for this boy with no name growing stronger and stronger along with his desires. But then one day, everything shattered into shards of despair.

_'I have to go far away. I'm sorry, but please keep smiling. Goodbye.'_

Sorey shouted after the boy, no longer afraid of the risks. Why? Why was he suddenly leaving, after all this time? It made no sense. But the boy, though he seemed like he would for a moment, didn't turn around. He ran back to wherever he came from every day; an escaping ray of hope, now diminishing into darkness.

Sorey had lived years of his life constantly in agony, suffering pain which the boy could never possibly comprehend. But never had he cried like he did in that moment, falling to the ground with the letter crumpling inside a trembling fist, tears after tears falling down his face and dropping onto the ground.

What would the boy say if he had saw those tears before he had ran away?

Sorey would be running after him in this moment to receive that answer, but of course, there was no possible way to. He couldn't chase the boy, speak to him, get the answer he needed. The future which had been restored of its brightness was starting to darken again.

Regardless of the betrayal he felt, he could not destroy those letters. He held them to his hurting chest, wallowing in pain harsher than anything he had ever felt.

This day was also the day he knew would inevitably come. The first ever letter he had received from the boy he had loved was snatched out of his hand by the solider he hated most. He panted with glaring eyes as his arms were held behind his back, gaze fixed unblinking on the soldier's face. Those intense eyes widened in horror when the solider began to tear apart the letter, paper falling onto the floor.

“ _STOP!”_ he screamed, the soldiers finding difficulty in keeping him still as he tried to struggle out of their grasp. The solider only wickedly grinned with gleaming eyes, stamping down on the paper beneath his feet, letting out a cruel laugh which echoed in Sorey's mind. That was the moment that he couldn't hold himself back.

He forced himself out of the soldiers' hold on him, jumping onto his feet and slamming his fist straight into the soldier's face with the largest amount of strength he could muster. The man fell to the floor, gripping his cheek in shock.

“ _I loved him!”_ Sorey bellowed, continuing to do so even when soldiers forced him back. “Do you not understand what that means? Do you have no heart at all? _Do you?!”_

The man seemed paralysed on the floor for a moment, before he pulled the hat on his head down to cover his eyes. Without looking at Sorey, the man swung his arm to the side as a gesture to the soldiers. They nodded, dragging Sorey to the cell he shared with other pitiful humans. He was thrown inside, a dark glare being cast at the door as it locked.

He was let off easier than he would have thought. But he knew that wasn't going to last much longer. That was likely to be the final straw.

He looked at the tiny amount of light cast through the steel bars over a narrow window. He ignored a hand placed on his shoulder, instead walking over to that tiny bit of light. A smile formed on his face. He wasn't angry at the boy any more. He just wanted to see him again.

The flower which had bloomed beautifully among weeds in the darkness.

And when his hands were handcuffed behind his back as he was pushed down painfully onto his knees, he still had no regrets over any of his choices. He just wished that he could live longer than this, live a little further past his seventeenth birthday than merely just a day. If this was his last moment, he wished that he could spend it in the boy's company again.

He didn't flinch when the barrel of a pistol was put to the side of his head. He was simply letting his mind wander to the thought of being told by the boy what his name was. The only thing which erased this thought was instant death brought by an ear-piercing bullet through his temple.

 

* * *

 

 

The boy with angelic, light hair coughed into his hand, chest feeling tight. He barely minded at all. The sun shining down onto his back was restoring his spirit, even if he shouldn't have been there at all.

_'Stay away from my work, Mikleo. It's not the right place for you.'_

It wasn't, but Mikleo hadn't always been one to listen to his uncle due to them not particularly getting along.

The green grass seemed to become thinner as he walked on further, not knowing why he was going to the place he was told to never go to. The fence which separated the world in there from the world he lived in.

Or at least, the one he was supposed to.

He didn't get too close to the fence. He only walked down the side, wishing that he had the power to grant freedom to those who were inside. No one deserved to be without it. He was aware of the pain it caused.

It was during this walk alongside the fence in which he felt a presence, a pair of eyes looking at him. For just a moment, he turned his head, locking eyes with a prisoner who lived inside. He was only able to see messy brown hair, torn clothes and a physique larger than his own, for out of fear, he tore his gaze away and began to walk back from whence he came. But as he walked, the fear he felt subsided, replaced by guilt instead. He'd had the chance to reach out to one of the victims lurking on that side of barbed wire, and he didn't take it.

_'I'll go tomorrow,'_ he thought to himself, ducking out of the way of the eyes of a receptionist. _'And I'll write him a letter, if I have the strength to throw it over.'_

And he did. This time, he didn't let fear control him and wandered closer to the fence.

It brought him more joy than he could have ever imagined when the boy, with the same intentions as Mikleo, stepped forward and through a paper plane over the fence. Mikleo was too shocked to step forward to catch it, instead bending down to pick it up off the floor. He unfolded the letter.

_'I was hoping you'd come back. It's a pleasure to meet you!'_

He could picture a cheery, positive tone through just those two sentences. Looking up, he gave the largest smile which he could ever remember having on his face. The boy reacted in a beautiful way; bright green eyes lighting up, his whole face radiating happiness. It was the exact opposite of what Mikleo would expect from a prisoner there.

Taking a deep breath, Mikleo imitated what the boy had done himself. The boy jumped up to catch it, and the expression he had previously only seemed to become happier. It brought warmth to Mikleo's chest.

He wanted to stay longer, but he was already starting to become a little dizzy. Disappointed, he waved to the boy, promising himself that he would, once again, return the next day. And the next, and the next.

It was the same process everyday. When he was no longer attended to and his uncle was at work, he would pull the tube out of his hand, put on a pair of jeans which he tucked his hospital gown into, throw on a cardigan and tie shoes on his feet. Then he would sneak away, breathing in the fresh air he longed for when he was dreadfully stuck in his room, hidden away from all life, taking away his freedom.

He didn't know this boy's name, nor did he know what his voice sounded like. Mikleo understood why, but that didn't make him long to know both any less. But one day, he couldn't help but laugh at a letter about what it would look like if all the planes they threw to each other got caught on the barbed wire. It was a foreign thing for him to do, but doing so felt completely natural if it was caused by this boy. The boy laughed, too; clutching his stomach and throwing his head back, trying to keep his voice down at least a little. It was in that moment that Mikleo knew why this friendship felt different to the friends he'd had before his life took a turn for the worst. It was because this was his first time falling in love, even without having a name to the face he adored.

Once he returned to his bed each day, he felt worn and drained, but full of happiness as he would read over the letters again. For a moment, despite the fact that he knew how death could have been round the corner at any second, his future seemed brighter. He even imagined it with the boy, if they ever both became free. But that temporary bright hope was soon to be snatched straight out of his hands.

“What is this?” his uncle said through gritted teeth, body shaking from anger as he read the letter in his hand. “Answer me, Mikleo.”

Mikleo stayed silent, hair falling over his head from his head hanging low.

“ _'If only I wasn't a prisoner here, then we could laugh side by side.'_ You've done exactly what I've told you _not_ to do, haven't you? You've gone to my workplace!”

“I was just going for a walk, and-”

“That doesn't justify anything! You shouldn't even be out of this hospital!”

His uncle began to tear the letter into pieces. Each one felt like it was a piece of a torn heart.

“ _STOP!”_ Mikleo screamed, reaching out a futile hand. His uncle grabbed his wrist, looking at him straight in the eye.

“I forbid you from doing this again,” he said in a low voice. “You're to remain here, you hear me?”

Mikleo looked away, refusing to let tears fall from watery eyes in the man's presence. The grip on his wrist loosened until it was released. His uncle walked over to the door and slammed it after himself without another word. That's when the tears started to fall.

What difference did it make if he left the hospital or not? Either way, he was going to die. Was it really so wrong to try and live, rather than just aim to survive for another few months? Was it really so wrong to want to grant the happiness of another person lacking in freedom?

His hands gripped the duvet over his legs so tightly that his knuckles turned a harsh white. Then he howled, tears streaming down his face, choked sobs causing his physical pain to only increase further. He didn't care about that, though. He was sure his heart would be broken regardless of whether or not it was already damaged to start with.

The stress and anguish took its toll on his already failing body. More medication, more tubes, more analysing. Death was truly around the corner by now. But right now, all he cared about was continuing writing his letters, to say goodbye before his life was taken by his disease.

He could hardly move, his legs wobbling to keep him upright. Yet this was his chance, before the nurses came to see him and whilst his uncle was at the terror he called 'work'. He would make it there. He _had_ to.

He had written the last letter whilst wiping away tears, thankful that none landed on the paper. He didn't want to worry the boy he loved. He already lived a life struck by despair as it was.

Mikleo understood his agony all too well, even if the boy wasn't aware of that.

His sight was spinning, panted breaths escaping from his lips as he hurried down the landscape towards where the fence lay, paper plane gripped tightly in his hand. He wiped sweat away from his forehead when he got closer, managing to greet the boy with the smile he always did, despite what the letter entailed.

And he was still smiling when the boy looked up at him, eyes hurt and confused. Mikleo turned when his eyes welled up. He would not let the boy see those tears. But when he took a step forward, a shout startled him to a stop.

“I'll be waiting for you!” It took all of Mikleo's strength to stay stood on the spot, head rising up and his eyes wide. “We'll meet again, I just know it! Don't give up on me!”

Mikleo began to turn around, but he stopped himself. A hand gripped on his agonising chest as the tears began to fall. His sight was blackening, but he couldn't fall here.

_'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…'_ ran through his mind as his weak, dying legs took him away. He only made it into the entrance of the hospital before he collapsed, everything turning pitch black.

His uncle had tried to run to his bed, screaming at the top of his lungs to see his nephew. Mikleo breathed heavily with his support, not letting himself meet the gaze of the man he hated most. The nurses and doctor pushed him away, trying to say that Mikleo needed immediate attention and company was not allowed.

He could no longer move. If he'd had any ounce of freedom before, it ceased to exist now. All he could do was wait whilst his tiny bit of remaining time ticked away, a countdown to a world beyond he knew nothing about.

Maybe, just maybe, he'd have more freedom in that world.

But he had so many regrets. Despite the risks, he wished that he knew the boy's name, or at least had told him his. He wished he had met him sooner. He wished he had spent longer with him, as well as his mother before she passed away. He should have helped more people and brought more happiness to the world.

He had shakily asked for a nurse to place one of the letters into his hand as he took his last remaining breaths. He wanted to be as close to the boy he loved as possible, remember the laugh which had seemed to light up both of their dark worlds. That's how he wanted to die.

A beautiful, blooming flower could only finish blossoming if it was bathed in sunlight. He hadn't been able to reach it enough.

His breaths and heart rate slowing, the beeping of his pulse faded away into the distance, replaced once again by not just the boy's laugh, but also the voice Mikleo had managed to hear as he said goodbye.

It was with a smile on his face and peacefully closed eyes that his heart stopped. The letter, one of many which had brought him hope for a brighter future, slipped silently to the floor. His uncle, guilt and regret evident in those eyes, held onto the now empty hand of his nephew.

It was too late now to make amends. There was no returning to the prison of his life; his eyes were opening, his soul waking up elsewhere.

And was this place beautiful.

The sun beamed down from a bright clear sky, radiating warmth onto him. Even if it wasn't real, it surely felt as though it was. It cast down onto the greenest grass he'd ever stood on, highlighted blossom trees and lush plants. Had the world he'd lived in always been like this, but he had never been able to take in its beauty due to his confinement?

He felt so free, yet it wasn't enough. He let himself forget about his regrets. He just wanted to hear the name of the boy he loved, to throw his arms around him and ignore everything around them.

That's when Mikleo saw something out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps his mind was imagining things, creating false hope in order to comfort him. But he swore that he had saw a paper aeroplane fly over his head.

It had felt like an eternity had passed since he had received one of those.

His body feeling lighter and healthier than it had ever been, he ran in the direction he sure he had seen it flew. He jogged up some steps, unsure of where they led. He wasn't accustomed to being able to move this quickly and not be blinded by pain from it, but perhaps death was a little forgiving.

And when he reached the top, that's when the heart which had failed him seemed to skip a beat. Across a wooden bridge over clear, sparkling water stood the boy with brown hair he had been longing for. The wind blew, scattering the petals of cherry blossoms around them.

Mikleo didn't have to say anything. The boy turned with the wind, strands of his hair blowing gently away from his face. Even with their distance, Mikleo could see, or at least picture, his eyes perfectly. Perhaps no fence between them cleared a previously clouded gaze.

They could only stand in shock for a moment before they were overtaken by joy. Both ran towards each other with desperation despite how they had all the time in the world. They met in the middle of the bridge, Mikleo throwing himself into the boy's arms. With the joyful laugh Mikleo had missed, the boy lifted him and spun him round, holding him close once he was back on the ground. Tears falling from both of their eyes, Mikleo wrapped his arms around the boy's neck, burying his head into his shoulder. The warmth from this embrace was something which despite all of the false hope he'd had, he had known would never happen in life. But it was a different story in death.

He thought he might have fainted from sheer happiness at the words which were murmured into his ear.

“I'm Sorey.”

Mikleo hung on tighter, his smile growing, eyes still closed.

“I'm Mikleo.”

The deep darkness had engulfed them both in agony whilst they had been alive, and had done so again to bring their deaths. But the darkness had been taken over by the light granted by another world together.

Death wasn't the end. It was merely another beginning.

 


End file.
